The Odd One Out
by Sulime
Summary: First little fic I wrote. Follow a girl from Tristram as she is forced from her home and falls in with those crazy mage-killers we all know and love.


Chapter One A/N: This is actually the first fic I've ever written, I'm just a complete lazy arse. Reviews make me squeal with happiness, so please drop a line. You might recognize some of the names from Tolkien's languages or books. Props to you if you can spot one. I don't own the premise of the game, the fine folks at Blizzard do. I _do_ own the names you don't recognize. 

* * *

The entire town of Tristram was rife with celebration. The barmaids of the Inn at the Rising Sun, Gillian, and her sister Hollin, were working day and night to keep the merry townsfolk supplied with ale and Gillian's cider. 

"Holly, add some more juice to that tub, we need more cider out there." Gillian looked outside at the celebration.

"Do they really need more cider? They already keep me up all night singing!" Hollin groaned.

"Like you wouldn't be staying up anyway pining for that sorcerer friend of yours!" Gillian teased. Hollin blushed furiously and tried to hide it to no avail. When Hollin was embarrassed, she suspected that even her hands blushed.

"That's my business, not yours! And it's not really pining if the feeling is mutual!" Gillian's eyebrows shot up, and Hollin cursed Gillian's nosy nature under her breath.

"Is that so, Hollin?" Gillian teased. "_Do_ tell me more about this." Hollin raised her head and fixed a defiant look on her flushed, round face, and spoke with mock seriousness.

"Now see here, Gillian, I am old enough to make my own choices, and I think the hero who defeated Diablo and saved Tristram, mind you, is a worthy choice. And he is a nice man, who has never said an unkind word to you. Now if you don't mind, I will go refill the kegs!" She tossed her hair and picked up a sizable tub, leaving Gillian laughing. Gillian watched Hollin's retreating back with a smile. At least she had someone worthy in mind, even if he was a wandering sorcerer. Gillian sighed and tended to the tubs of her potent ale.

* * *

Hollin had already refilled the oaken keg by the fountain in the center of town when she suddenly felt too restless to return to the inn. She strolled on the outskirts of the town for a while. She was lost in thought as she heard a voice pipe up behind her.

"Hey, Hollin, seen that sorcerer around, or am I good enough company for now?" Wirt, a diminutive peg-legged boy, flashed her an impish smile. He had seemed a lot happier in the time after Diablo's defeat. Of course, any overture of friendship from him was most likely a minor scam.

"No, Wirt, I haven't seen Torion around in some time, and I'm _not_ gambling, you gold-grubbing little fiend." Wirt pouted sadly. Hollin giggled at him. "It must be impossible to stay mad at you, otherwise Cain would have kicked your sorry self out of town. Don't worry, though, some drunkard is bound to wander your way soon, and I don't have much gold anyway." She ruffled his mousy hair and wandered away to the fence around the old cathedral.

As she stood, looking at the place that once radiated evil and caused nightmares for everyone in town, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. Only one person did that. 

"Hello, Torion," Hollin said. She was right, of course. She turned around to smile at her saviour, friend, and fiancee. He smiled back, and held out an arm to Hollin. She took it, and they started to walk the outskirts of the graveyard.

* * *

Two days walk from Tristram, there was a grim sight to be seen. All of Diablo's remaining minions, including zombies, small demons, and goat-men were gathered in a small army, led by a champion among goatmen. If any human soul was present to hear him speak, they could have guessed their intentions despite the unclear bleating noises and guttural words typical to goat-man speech.

"If those humans think we are gone for good," he growled, "they have a surprise coming!" His motley, but powerful, army yelled, bleated, and groaned with approval.

Hollin and Torion sat on a mound of earth near the cemetery. Hollin's eyes stared with mixed feelings at the dark church and the now silent earth. She wanted so badly to believe that it was all over, but something was telling her that there was more in store for Tristram. She looked nervously at Torion, and at the red gem in his forehead. It scared her a little, how he looked now after his last battle in the depths of hell, but she always beat her uneasiness down and convinced herself that she loved him and it didn't matter.

"Why are you staring at?" he asked, with a troubled tone in his voice.

"What? Oh, it's nothing really. I just have this feeling that it's not over."

"What do you mean? There's nothing left down there." Torion's face looked pale and drawn. When he first came into town, before he went underground to fight, he had looked much younger.

"There's still something weird. I don't think it's down there anymore, but evil can't be gone forever. I still feel it, and it seems closer than ever." She looked into Torion's eyes, silently begging him to tell her that nothing would ever try to hurt her or Gillian again, and she saw something strange. Torion's eyes looked strange. They looked like his, but he wasn't all there.

"I'm alright, Hollin. You're alright. You don't have to worry about anything anymore." That was exactly what Hollin had wanted to hear, but it didn't ring in her ears quite right. Torion continued. "So, Hollin, what are you going to do now that Tristram is free?" Hollin blinked. _Doesn't he know?_, she thought.

"I thought I was going to go with you, so that brings another question up. Where are you going?" Torion looked even more troubled than usual. Hollin's stomach turned unpleasantly.

"I can't stay here, Hollin. I am supposed to bring news of this back to my homeland," he said, avoiding her eyes.

Hollin nodded slowly for a second, not trusting herself to speak. It would come out as an immature, undignified squeak. "So you can't take me with you, why?" she asked slowly, trying not to squeak.

"Some things just have to be done, and the Vizjerei don't allow women into their borders."

Hollin pursed her lips. "I see. And you were planning to tell me this right away, weren't you?" she asked acidly.

"In case you couldn't figure it out for yourself, this is Diablo's stone in my head. Now if your need for marriage is more important than that, I will gladly drop everything for you," he replied just as poisonously. Hollin winced. That hurt, but it also made a degree of sense. She felt tears sting her eyes and decided to go before she embarrassed herself.

"Fine," she said. "I'll go and sort out my priorities, and you can get ready to go." She got up and left for her house, trying not to sob in front of him. Torion wrestled with himself to go after her or not. Something told him not to, and he remained where he was.

* * *

Gillian saw her sister walk back into town, noticeably subdued. She figured it would be best to let her alone, but she watched with concern as Hollin collected some empty mugs and moved to let her pass into the kitchen. Without a word, she hugged her distressed younger sister and retired for the night. Hollin sat in her room, looking much more composed than she was at the moment. She didn't have even the force of will left to cry more. Hollin could only think of what Torion had said before he went to face Diablo.

"If I come out again, I will find a way to be with you for the rest of my life," he had said. The words sounded hollow and meaningless, like a walnut with no core, just empty and bitter. Torion had come out alive all right, but he had seemed like he brought something wrong back with him, and Hollin would bet her life that it had something to do with the rock that was lodged in Torion's forehead. She suddenly found herself full of nervous energy. She paced around her room, thinking about that unquestionably sinister red stone. It had probably come off of Diablo himself, and there were two people she knew who would know anything about it. The thought of going to Cain the elder with a semi-romantic problem was incredibly ridiculous, so Hollin wrapped a woolen cloak around her shoulders bound for Adria's shack. Once outside her house, she saw none other than Torion gathering his things to leave. Everyone else had gone to bed, no doubt exhausted from the revelry. Hollin's eyes teared up again before she could stop them. Torion teleported over, holding a pack full of gold and rare weapons. He dropped it and took Hollin in his arms.

This time she just let the tears fall, leaving a wet, salty stain on the front of Torion's cloak. She looked up in his eyes. They looked clearer and more familiar again.

"Torion, I-" she began, but choked on her own sob.

"I'm so sorry that I spoke to you like that before, but I was telling the truth. I do have to go. But I will see you again someday, when it's safer for us. Take this, and no matter what the world does to us, we'll recognize each other." He slipped a cold necklace around her neck, embraced her and kissed her forehead. Before she could react, he had disappeared. His smell lingered around her, smoke and cloves. She looked down at the necklace. It was a silvery chain, holding a pendant set with what was unmistakably a shard of Diablo's soulstone. Another sob forced its way up, and Hollin resumed her walk to the witch's shack.

* * *

_Soon,_ Umbar thought, _soon those humans will get their comeuppance._ The outline of Tristram was just a mile away. Umbar gripped his axe in fierce anticipation. 

* * *

Adria's shack still had a light on inside. "Adria?" asked Hollin, knocking on the door. It opened to let out a cloud of pink steam, which cleared to reveal Adria stirring something in a cauldron.

"Come in, dear. What's wrong?" Adria wiped her hands on her apron. Hollin walked in to the odd little cottage. The smell of the potion Adria was brewing made her feel a little better.

"What is that? It smells wonderful." Hollin pulled up a stool next to Adria.

"Healing Potion. While you're here, you can help me out." She handed Hollin a ladle and some phials to put the potion in. "And you still haven't told me what's wrong." Hollin sighed and started to work.

"Torion is leaving tonight," she said softly, "and I'm not." Adria whistled through her teeth.

"Take this, free of charge." She handed Hollin a phial of healing potion. "It won't work for your heart like it does for broken bones, but it will help." Hollin drank it gratefully.

"Thanks. Actually, I came here to ask you about this." She held out her necklace for Adria to inspect. Adria hummed.

"Well, that is interesting. A soulstone necklace. Keep it, Hollin. Incidentally, this stone's older brother in Torion's forehead is what's making him act oddly."

"Will he be alright?" asked Hollin apprehensively.

"I don't know. If anyone can help, his kind can. If not, we might have a problem." Suddenly, Adria cocked an ear. "Do you hear that?" After a second, Hollin heard the sound too, and it brought a chill to her heart. She had heard it before in her nightmares; the sound of demons outside thin walls. Adria's face went grim.

"They're headed to Tristram. Once they pass, you run for the woods. They will be empty, since that's where this army came from." Adria took a stave off the wall and slipped outside. Hollin succumbed to blind panic and ran for all she was worth. 

* * *

  
A/N: Well? Love it, hate it? Nothing like a little note to make me feel loved. I hate to think I wasted all that class time on this fic if no one's going to read it. 


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